


Black Honey

by foreskinsmoothie



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gore, M/M, Shinigami Yagami Light, Size Difference, beastiality, eventual NSFW
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 09:35:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22967824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreskinsmoothie/pseuds/foreskinsmoothie
Summary: As a newborn Shinigami, Light is a handful. Ryuk has to learn how to care for the unhinged creature while also shielding him from the dangers of the Shinigami Realm; this becomes a lot more difficult when Light proves to be even more animalistic than expected.
Relationships: Ryuk/Yagami Light
Comments: 12
Kudos: 93





	1. Chapter 1

It began as another distraction from the crippling boredom of Shinigami life. 

Ryuk would plant himself on the gritty ground littered with yellowed bones and remains of creatures that used to roam in excess-- or so Ryuk had heard in age old tales from other Gods. He’d occassionally humor the other Shinigami with gambling that kept their rotting minds preoccupied, but the better half of his endless freetime had been most recently spent in front of the writhing mass, a cocoon of living flesh that pulsed and throbbed grotesquely. With a sun that only shone a blood red sheen, it was difficult to see through the skin of the cocoon to the creature developing within it; but when the light striked it just right, Ryuk could catch a gruesome Shinigami embryo that got a little larger, a little sharper, with every passing day.

There was no rhythm to Ryuk’s watching of the embryo, but it piqued his interest when he stumbled over the harsh ground to find the cocoon had been clawed open and left in a lumpy mound that still twitched with the memory of life. Death rattles, they were called if Ryuk remembered correctly. He dragged a pointy foot through the blood heap, leaving a smear of crimson on the ground that quickly soaked into the soil as if the realm were sucking the blood right up, drinking it from the source. It wouldn’t have surprised Ryuk if his realm really did drink blood in order to keep it thriving, considering it hadn’t seen the stuff in millenia and it was all but sucked dry.

Light had been reborn and was roaming the Shinigami Realm freely-- why wouldn’t Ryuk be distraught? The most interesting part of his miserable days was frolicking a lifeless landscape.

He would’ve left it alone, left Light to his own devices as most newborn Shinigami were, if he hadn’t been lounging about in his home, mourning the death of the dwindling flames of his interest, when something wretched and visceral hit his senses full force. A horrible odor that would’ve made his bulging yellow eyes water if they were capable of doing so. With a curling growl, Ryuk lifted himself from his less than lavish nest and dragged himself to the gaping, jagged mouth of the cave he lived in (a bit of a step down from Light Yagami’s traditional Japanese style home with two stories and lavish decorations). There was something… spectacular.

It was Light Yagami (THE GOD OF THE NEW WORLD, he’d so often proclaimed), in his fully developed Shinigami glory, and he was licking his own eyeball while scratching his ear with his foot.

Most striking, however, was the crown of yellowed, gnarled teeth he wore on his head.

His new form was nothing to gawk at, as far as Shinigami were concerned-- he was far more mammalian than other Shinigami Ryuk had encountered or even Ryuk himself. Covered in sharp fur, matted with sticky blood, with a large, eerie grin not unlike Ryuk’s own permanent smile. However, Light seemed to still have muscles in his face capable of emoting while Ryuk did not-- his smile slunk from his face as his tongue lulled off of his bulging yellow eyeball, hanging out of his mouth as he panted in a canine-esque fashion. Ryuk took the opportunity to approach Light’s new form and ran his manicured claws through the jutting reddish-auburn fur that ran down Light’s spine, which had ripped through his skin to expose the sharp white bones beneath. 

Light’s black snout twitched and his maw split in a pitchy cackle as his tail, riddled with enough spikes to slice clean through anything it may meet, waggled. 

“Well, shit. Ain’t the beautiful human ya used to be, but yer kinda… cute like this.”

His bone and muscle structure was still vaguely human-esque-- he still had those stupid bangs that hung perfectly between his eyes, that were huge, flat and wet from his own saliva, with jagged ears that stuck out on either side of his head. The only thing that distinguished Light from an anthropomorphic hyena was his protruding spine and tail in the likeness of a flogging whip. He wasn’t particularly big, hardly any bigger than his original form, and still the odd elegance of a slim, graceful body, albeit covered in grimy fur and bits of viscera from whatever he’d killed.

His legs were stretched out in front of him as he sat dumbly on the ground, awaiting more pets.

Ryuk yawned. 

“Well, go on your way, little Light-o. Go terrorize the rest of the Realm.”

Light only continued to stare ahead empty headed and one of his enormous eyes rolled in a different direction of the other. It was the type of look only a vulnerable and hopelessly stupid animal could give-- it was pathetic.

Ryuk found himself letting the little terror into his cave and immediately found himself regretting it as Light tore into his nest with reckless abandon, getting chunks of guts all over Ryuk’s skins and pelts. He rolled about in it, like a dog covered in mud might, chortles and giggles curling out of his black maw in utter glee. 

But, Ryuk couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy that company when Light eventually tired himself out and spread eagle in his nest. He promptly joined Light and shoved his contorted body out of the way in order to make room for himself. 

“Well, newborn Shinigami actually need sleep, or so I’ve heard.” 

Light didn’t have eyelids, so it was difficult to tell if he was getting sleepy. Ryuk wrapped a spindly arm around his spiky neck and pulled Light's warm body into his own. As Shinigami aged, they became less lively and more cold-blooded, harsher to adjust to their environment. Light was still radiating heat and still soft in some parts-- Ryuk’s clawed hand slid down Light’s furry chest, feeling the meat of his squishy tummy, that felt… oddly full. There wasn’t much to eat in the Shinigami Realm and really, there wasn’t much to kill save for other Shinigami. Light’s scarlet drenched maw parted in a yawn.

“Sheep… Shleep…” Light murmured between chuckles before his eyes lulled back and he passed out into Ryuk’s side.

The nagging question still remained; what (or who) had Light killed?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I change my mind. Yer an ugly, horny bastard and I’m gonna punt ya into the sun.”
> 
> “Ugly…” Light echoed clumsily, sitting similar to how he had when he arrived at Ryuk’s cave; legs spread out in front of him with his paws placed between them and shoulders hunched. “H-Horn...ee… R-ee-uk…”

The next morning arrived-- but, what defined a morning when each day was without end?

Ryuk’s eyes rolled from the back of his head to greet the dark, dreary ceiling of his home-- sleeping was the ultimate sign of laziness, or better yet, a decaying sense of self worth. There wasn’t much entertainment left in Ryuk’s life and on more than one occasion, he considered simply allowing his life span to shorten until it dwindled to his final days, before he finally crumbled into an unassuming pile of dust, only left to be characterized by his Death Note that would surely outlive him. Most Shinigami indulged in meaningless existences and after experiencing the most exciting event to catch his interest in centuries, he was feeling the force of that meaninglessness with it’s full intensity. It carved into him as if his skin wasn’t impenetrable-- another curse on his meager little existence.

He could’ve spent day after worthless Shinigami day dwelling on just how worthless the Shinigami experience was, but the events of the previous day and the series of events that lead to his lazing about flooded back when he felt the heat of Light Yagami nuzzled into his cold, corpse-like side. It was laughable to think that any version of Light would be shamelessly cuddling a big ugly monster, given both Light’s aversion to cuddling and his aversion to anything that wasn’t as gorgeous as himself (which tended to be anything outside of his mirror). The lack of standards could surely be traced to his recent emergence from that hellish cocoon and thus a lack of memories of his former glory. It may take decades for Light’s memories to be fully restored or they might never return and Light would be left to build a new existence out of dust and ash.

A painfully dull one, Ryuk was sure. 

More uncharacteristic for Light, even in his freshly developed infant-esque state, was the lustful stench permeating the air. As most Shinigami did, Ryuk’s sense of smell was far stronger than even the most primal Earth creatures and it was pungent and strong-- something shamelessly sensuous. Ryuk’s buggish eyes rolled down towards Light’s sharp new form to find the newborn Shinigami rutting against his leg like he’d just been hit with human puberty full force, his maw hanging open and tongue lulled out as he panted and whimpered, big stupid eyes lazing in different directions and glazed over. The older Shinigami couldn’t help but scoff at the debauched behavior. What would his Light think about Shinigami Light acting like such a little depraved whore? He’d have burst a blood vessel if only Ryuk had told him this was the ultimate price for using the Death Note-- being reduced to a horny, adolescent Shinigami, ugly as sin and brainless as a bag of bricks…

Ryuk took a long, considerate look at the Shinigami. He missed his human. He missed the vindictive, manipulative, insane little shit. He missed his glossy caramel hair and the auburn sheen of his dark eyes, perfectly bordered by thick lashes, the cut of his cheekbones that cast shadows across his perfectly carved jawbone, his honey glazed skin and sculpted body, hardened and solid from years of athletic endeavors. His little Icharus had his wax wings melted to the bone and he’d fallen from grace so pathetically, as most every human did. Really, Ryuk shouldn’t have been disappointed. He should have at least expected it to all end in such exquisite flames. 

This Light, however, was not a terrible replacement. 

A dusky hope quivered from beneath the crushing boredom Ryuk had experienced. Shinigami had the capability to be far more unattractive than Light’s new vessel-- his slanting eyes were graceful, even with the yellowed whites and flat red irises that floated pupillessly and the lack of eyelids to wet them. The slope of his maw might have been considered delicate if it wasn’t currently split in a huge, black smile filled with razor edged canines already yellowed with lack of care. His fur was a beautiful color if one could get past the horribly matted and scarlet crusted quality of it-- nothing a thorough bath couldn’t cure. His figure was still wonderfully solid beneath the fur that covered it and as his face twisted in young ecstacy, Ryuk detected features that reminded him all too much of Light’s human form. A crease between his brow bones, the gnarling of his black lips, the wrinkle right beside his snout that Ryuk’s human would get right beside his angular nose during his moments of frustration. 

“Yer not bad-lookin’ at all…” Ryuk acknowledged as he sat up, Light’s head in his lap and ears drawn back as he resumed humping Ryuk’s leg with mindless, drawn out pleasure. Ryuk ran his claws through the creature’s fur, pushing his choppy bangs out of his face to try and better observe his bone structure. “Little Light-o could even be considered… cute. If I were pervert enough, maybe…”

But, Ryuk couldn’t deny his resemblance to his human form. It was just a little hairy, a little rougher, and it would probably only continue to spiral as his body was exposed to the harsh elements of the Shinigami Realm.

Ryuk could at least enjoy Light’s beauty before that occurred and ruined every perfect slope of his face. 

“Aight, get th’ fuck off of me.” Ryuk nudged Light away, but the Shinigami clung onto him stubbornly. It took physically prying the morose little fuck off of him to get him to stop-- if Ryuk had wanted a dog… actually, this was probably the closest thing he would ever get to a pet, closer even than human Light. Ryuk witnessed with unblinking eyes as Light’s member, so different from his human one, retreated into it’s sheath as the young Shinigami stretched out in a feline fashion, yawning widely. Even his visible spine joints popped from how hard he’d slept. “I change my mind. Yer an ugly, horny bastard and I’m gonna punt ya into the sun.”

“Ugly…” Light echoed clumsily, sitting similar to how he had when he arrived at Ryuk’s cave; legs spread out in front of him with his paws placed between them and shoulders hunched. “H-Horn...ee… R-ee-uk…”

Ryuk stared at Light thoughtfully as his maw struggled to form the syllables. Ryuk had witnessed the birth and development of other Shinigami-- they didn’t usually learn any discernible language skills until they’d been alive for a little over a century, only after running rampant and acting like wild animals on crack for a long while. Light was shockingly smart and quick to learn, especially compared to average Shinigami standards-- he was already communicating, or at least attempting to. Most Shinigami didn’t have the capability to make sounds other than bloodcurdling howls, screeching growls and whimpers until a few decades into their existence. And… did he just try to sound out Ryuk’s name? 

Were his memories coming back already? (And… was that a good thing?)

Already, Light was providing to be such an interesting explosion of colors in the grayscale of Ryuk’s Shinigami existence. Ryuk stepped out of his nest and quickly assembled himself back to a presentable form with a snap of his fingers, Light watching him intently as he did so and attempting to stand on his hind legs with stumbling, deer-like steps. It didn’t take long for Light to plummet to the floor onto all fours as his tail curled up between his legs frustratedly. It was Shinigami nature to give up when things didn’t go right for them immediately. Ryuk had given up on a lot of things over the course of his flavorless life. 

Light, without wasting more than a few minutes to wallow in his failure, stood back up, baring a wobbling smile full of sharp fangs and a tongue that slithered up to his eyeball to wet it. And he didn’t fall this time. Light exploded into a chorus of cackles that Ryuk couldn’t help but notice sounded suspiciously similar to the laughter from all of his god complex spiels that would most often dissolve into mentally disturbed rambling and chuckles. 

“Well, let’s hit the town, little Light-o. Time to show off how pitiful the God of the new world has become…”

But, somewhere, Ryuk didn’t mean that at all. He was truly impressed with Light, even though he knew he was capable of so much more. He may have been impressed, but he nearly shit himself when Light cocked his head and said, 

“Go… to… Sh-Shinigami… Ki-iiing, Ree-uk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> may update this every day since updates aren't that long anyway. its not like anyone else is going to give me the feral Light content I crave :p take a shot every time ryuk falls head first into an existential crisis


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “All Shinigami have ‘em.” Ryuk mentioned as if Light were capable of understanding him. “Though, ya could be a late bloomer…”
> 
> Ryuk knew that wasn’t true, if Light was already forming sentences. 
> 
> “Shini--gam--ee.” Light tried the word as he gazed at Ryuk expectantly. Light continued, “All… Shini-gam-ee… h-have…”

Who was Ryuk to deny the little guy of his request?

Besides, what else would Ryuk have done? Showed Light’s new form off to fellow Shinigami, catching their fleeting attention for maybe a few minutes, before they drug themselves right back to their boredom induced gambling that never saw an end, hurling insults at each other and growling out dry laughter. That was just the nature of most Shinigami-- Ryuk was a mild outliar at best. Their own King wasn’t much more useful than the rest of the dying population of the Shinigami Realm, left to roil in his own filth with enormous chains to keep him bound to the jagged cave walls while massive insect legs wriggled from the sloppy mound of his dark, fleshy body. The only noteworthy thing about him was his enormous teeth that sat deep within the folds of his disfigured face below empty eye sockets, large and canine and attached to a jaw with sharp mandibles protruding from it.

The King often lamented that his cave was not fit for royalty such as himself. Ryuk found his home entirely befitting of a King of a bunch of lazy, gambling slobs. It was a hoarders nest, full of the King’s winnings from before a time when he’d been punished with permanent imprisonment and stolen riches and the bones of creatures that roamed the realm, slaughtered in excess. Ryuk hadn’t been alive long enough to be familiar with the realm when it was full of life and the sun shone a color other than scarlet. Once the realm had been rumored to have been bathed in warm honey gold, bloomed with colorful and deeply poisonous flora that the animals of the land were inclined to feast on, while their predatory counterparts feasted on them.

There once was a monastary, far decayed now, that displayed paintings of the time that Ryuk had just narrowly missed indulging in. Ryuk was almost glad he wasn’t around to sunbathe and eat juicy purple grapes off of willowy vines-- he didn’t know anything before this desolate place, which made it just a little bit easier to accept that this was his home now. This barren desert it’d been reduced to.

Light himself lacked the monotonous monochrome of muted colors that most Shinigami developed from years of grit and lack of proper sunlight. He was a smear of color in an otherwise colorless world, but Ryuk speculated it wouldn’t take long for his compatriot to be drained complete and left a gray, bone riddled thing as most Shinigami were. He’d become indistinguishable save for that yellowed, cracked crown of teeth. Ryuk spelled the grime and blood out of Light’s fur, much preferable to painstakingly combing it out, leaving the young Shinigami’s auburn coat with a glimmering, silky quality in the areas that weren’t blunt and sharp.

The King’s prison was only on the other side of the slowly decomposing mountain, though far further down beneath a bone dry moat that was whispered once to be full of putrid acid. Ryuk absentmindedly scratched behind Light’s upturned ears as his other hand roamed the plane of Light’s back, feeling delicate shoulder blades, as he looked for wings.

“All Shinigami have ‘em.” Ryuk mentioned as if Light were capable of understanding him. “Though, ya could be a late bloomer…”

Ryuk knew that wasn’t true, if Light was already forming sentences.

“Shini--gam--ee.” Light tried the word as he gazed at Ryuk expectantly. Light continued, “All… Shini-gam-ee… h-have…”

“Wings, dumb dumb. All Shinigami have wings. It’s how we’re able to get down to the human realm, and come back up to this dump afterwards.” Ryuk explained.

Light bobbed his head up and down in a nod then took a few steps back from Ryuk. He began to twitch and convulse and his body contorted like Ryuk’s had when suffering apple withdrawls-- Light howled in pain as the flesh of his back began to rip and tear itself open in two thin slits, that were drawn open by the bones beginning to pop out of the gashes, sticking out like sharp white fingers with vein riddled webbing. Light wheezed painfully, gazing up towards Ryuk hopefully, and slumped to the ground on all fours, putting his mutilated back on full display. He then flexed his backside again and let out a eldrich, curling screech as more of the appendages forced out of his raw wounds, his whole body trembling from the morbid pain of being split open-- finally, his wings popped out at full mast and stretched with a sickening series of crackles and pops, like they’d been trapped under Light’s skin for centuries, folded up and crunched down. It was truly a chilling sight of transformation.

And Light was looking up at Ryuk, as if expecting praise for all his discomforting efforts.

The lopsided grin was nothing like Light’s usual handsome smile that curved across his face, full of expertly cared for pearly whites and his eyes weren’t rendered to honey brown slits, rather so big and bold they took up most of his face and made his other features look tiny and doll-like. This version of Light was warbled, gnarled, but still so uniquely Light with the endless strength of his holy will, a sense of purpose, an unbreakable resolve. Ryuk hesitated to admit the crown suited Light-- it brought out the piss color of his scleras. Ryuk also hesitated to admit that as bored as he was, the dwelling of his gaze that so often landed on Light’s figure was suspiciously lustful, suspiciously dissecting, in nature. The careful cherishing of Light’s naked body as water slipped down it in delicate rivulets, lithe and toned as it bent and twisted beneath the shower stream, soap suds building in all the divets and dips of his musculature. The body, one might marvel, of a greek God.

It’d been such a stark contrast to Ryuk’s own body-- to the roughness he’d grown accustomed to. The leathery skin and rubbery wings that made sounds like the squelching of a lobster tail being ripped off when they protruded from a lumpy, knotted back. He’d enjoyed the sight of smooth, creamy skin on brittle bones and firm muscle that formed a young man handsome enough to make heads snap off their wobbly necks with the speed they turned to catch the vaguest of glances. Angels would cry at the beauty of Light Yagami and he still was beautiful, because his beauty was interwolven with the fabric of his existence-- it was more than his physical self, though Ryuk was the first to admit that his physical beauty made a healthy contribution to his inner beauty and complimented it wonderfully. His cunning-- now, that was beauty ground down to its purest form.

Watching Light’s attempt at flying was far less pathetic than Ryuk originally thought it might be and was more endearing. His wings would flap furiously to keep him up, then abruptly drop him a few feet-- his brow bone was curled down towards his snout with his concentration and Ryuk kept him on a loose firgurative leash, not reaching out for him as he learned how to glide through the air less than gracefully. Light wasn’t interested in conversation as they made their descent to the underbelly of the mountain and Ryuk was glad-- it felt most difficult to speak the closer they came to the King of Death’s prison. The tension became thick with the loss of altitude, even in a place like the Shinigami Realm where concepts like that held no value. A realm such as this defied all human grasps of physics. It would’ve boggled science savy Light Yagami, if he weren’t just barely able to speak and walk on two legs.

When they finally dawned on the deep crevice of the empty moat, Light was panting from exertion but still reasonably eager to slip through the rusted iron bars, charmed not to ever be broken with magic or anything else. Ryuk followed suit, squeezing his misshapen body through the bars and arriving only slightly contorted on the other side. He spun his trunk in a full 360 to get the crick out of his back, then faced forward to find Light had immediately darted into the darkness of the cave. A sigh brushed past his fleshy indigo lips (and when he inhaled again, a putrid odor hit him hard, as if the King had been eating raw, rotten ground beef by the handful) before he yanked an unlit lantern mounted on the wall and lit it with the clawed tip of his finger. Without further distraction, he sauntered deeper into the cell as the fire cast his shadow long inky across the rugged, grainy walls marred with gashes of claw marks. 

He called for Light, his coarse voice echoing through the coarse, cold little hole in a mountain. Was he expecting Light to respond? Ryuk took a straight detour to where the God of Death had been for the past handful of centuries; chained to the ceiling, dangling like raw meat over a lion enclosure as his dozens of wiry legs twitched and flailed and kicked aimlessly at the gentle breeze.

Despite having no eyes, the King had his hearing perfected and could detect any of his subjects approaching, could tell just from the pattern of their steps or their sluggish wriggling, depending on whether or not they had legs. Instead of hearing a familiar greeting that never failed to irk and annoy Ryuk, a haughty and gurgling proclamation, he only detected the delicate rattling of chains in the wisping air, not unlike that human invention that hung from porches-- wind chimes. He heard a sound eerily familiar to wind chimes. 

Light soon came into sight and Ryuk chortled. “Guess ya found ‘im all on yer own. Whaddya need me for--”

Ryuk paused. And held the lantern up to the space above Light Yagami.

“--then.”

Their King was infamous for the enormous, glistening black shell that sat on the creases of the his crushed leather back, indestructible and shielding him from debris that might fall from the jagged, spiked ceiling during infrequent ripples from below-- not quite what humans knew as Earthquakes, but similar enough for Ryuk to have long since drawn the comparison. That was the only piece of King left in tact. The inside of the shell was not so lucky.

The chains only held stray pieces that hadn’t slunk to the ground, where the cuffs had held so strong that they wouldn’t release their hold even in death. He’d been slaughtered ruthlessly, left in stringy pieces of Shinigami meat, blackened with rot and darkened with deep crimson blood. Legs, covered in spindling feelers and curdled fur, jutted out of piles of viscera and flesh, twitching still. Muscle peeled clean of skin congregated in gushing heaps, twisted chunks and wet, sloppy piles of vile bug organs, a long, wrinkled line of intestine hung down from one flabby black limb squished into a cuff to the massacre below. That’s exactly what the scene was; a massacre. Violent like a chainsaw juggling competition gone wrong. The King’s head lay completely decapitated in the center of the gore, jaw torn in two to expose the roof of his mouth… but no...

The only thing Ryuk didn’t spot in the morbid assortment was their King’s yellow, gnarled teeth.

Similar only to the crown on Light Yagami’s head. Ryuk thought back to the state Light had stumbled into his cave in; matted with blood like he’d rolled in someone’s sticky entrails. Wreaking with the stench of gore. Rolling all over Ryuk’s nest spread to leave bits of meat and muscle that dangled from his exposed spine bones.

It only made sense that Light murdered the Shinigami King in a fashion more horrifying than any of the atrocities the King himself had ever committed in order to be imprisoned by both heaven and hell.

“Light… k-kill… Shini-gam-ee King.” Light confirmed, as if reading Ryuk’s unchanging expression was the equivalent to reading his uncensored thoughts. “Kill him… Light… new Shini-gam-ee King.” 

Well, what the fuck was Ryuk supposed to say to that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rest in piss. Could you tell I ran out of descriptions for that hot wet shinigami MEAT


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryuk had come to a decision before the young Shinigami had even began to fully articulate himself.

Everything that was happening was just so absurd that Ryuk was frozen in stun.

The Shinigami experience was characterized by laziness, boredom and a chronic lack of empathy. It was most certainly not characterized by breaking out of a hellish cocoon and immediately killing the King of Death, before you could even say full sentences, fuck, before you could walk! There were so many questions brewing in Ryuk’s skull that he couldn’t possibly know where to start, not that he would be rewarded with any answers considering Light’s current, very limited, vocabulary. Light was proving to be far more expressive than Ryuk had given him credit for as the young Shinigami was beaming proudly with a familiar emotion stirring in the flat wet red eyes that began to enamor Ryuk. It was a cocktail of accomplishment, ambition and bloodlust that had displayed itself so prominently in Light Yagami so often when he was still human. The ruddy red look he would cast at Ryuk where he looked purely insidious; like God before He flooded the Earth in order to wipe out all of humanity. Like he was taking some necessary plunge into evil territory, in order to be the ultimate savior. 

To Light, of course, the method to his madness was that his massacre was compassion in disguise. Saving helpless people from their own sinful endeavors; putting them out of their misery;  _ making them bastard Matyrs.  _ Ryuk never failed to be ensnared by Light’s intentions described so intricately with the passion of an old prophet and the godlike quality of his ethereal appearance. Ryuk would say Light was human only in appearance, but he’s never been human, not in the ways that counted. He looked like something wretched right out of heaven and his mind was something dragged out of hell. Light may have been brilliant, and his intentions may have been as pure as any God willing to slaughter his own children, but he was disgusting when he was frothing at the mouth with the thirst for power, for genuine godhood. Clawing his way to the summit of some incredible mountain he’d devised in his deluded brain alone. 

That’s what Ryuk saw in him now. 

The side of Light starved for praise and willing to sacrifice anything to obtain the worship he deserved reared its head,  _ violently.  _ And Shinigami had never been endowed with the capacity to feel so deeply, so authentically. Even the ones who’d been humans lured to their doom by the Death Note never retained the ability to seek any deeper meaning to an existence that was inherently meaningless. Ryuk had always been impressed by Light, by  _ human standards.  _ This… this was something else entirely, to have taken his instincts and ground them into a fine powder, then scattered them across the blood veined ground of a desolate and dying place. 

It was beyond belief. The nature of one Light Yagami had completely demolished the opposing nature of the Shinigami. Ryuk was staring at a newborn enigma, and there was no amount of rules (to which breaking them would be the cause of eternal damnation or worse) that could’ve prepared Ryuk to begin to unravel him. 

Without further entertaining Ryuk, Light turned away to bare the jutting bones of his spine and shifted through the entrails and pummeled meat strewn about, to the abandoned Death Note left behind by the King. The… former King.

The King’s Death Note was a sacred thing, imbedded with it’s own set of rules for the King’s eyes only. Light gingerely picked it out of the red smear it soaked in with his dark claws, turning back towards Ryuk as he sniffed at it then grinned from ear to oversized ear. He delicately flipped it to the first page and the color drained from his eyes as he stared at the runes scrawled upon it; his smile quickly curled into a bitter sneer as his gaze flicked up towards Ryuk, full of malice and more hatred than ‘non-sentient’ young Shinigami were supposed to be capable of. 

“Ya can’t read, can ya?” Ryuk snickered because as much terror had struck him, he’d forgotten Light’s fatal handicap. Even if his memories were flooding back to him-- that made him a human in a Shinigami’s body. A particularly clever human, but a human nonetheless. "It’s an ancient tongue; nothing yer tiny human mind could ever comprehend, so I never bothered tryna teach ya back on earth. Now, however… I guess there’s some hope for ya, little Light-o.”

Light looked struck with indignity, but simultaneously looked as if he couldn’t figure out for what for. “R-ee-uk… helps Light… r-read… to bee-come King.” 

“Why?”

“ _ Ree-uk? _ ”

“Now that ya think yer all clever ‘cos ya murdered the King and stole his book, ya should be smart enough to realize nothin’ comes for free, ‘specially not my services. Why should I help ya become the new King? What if I wanna be the new King?”

One eye lulled away and Light’s tongue drooped out of his maw. His tail began to wag furiously from side to side. The malice drained from his expression all at once and all that was left was doting innocence, a thoughtless glaze in his round, wet eyes and a lopsided smile showing crooked incisors and a bottom jaw full of tiny fangs. Even the deep auburn fur standing on end at his vertebrae smoothed into something approachable and welcoming-- displaying traits more akin to cuddly canine than furocious feline, ears flared out at full attention and slinking down into a sitting position with his paws folded out in front of him.

“Real cute. Always knew how to use yer looks to yer advantage…” Really, Light was an expert, had crafted manipulative craftiness into a fully sculpted artform. His endeavors with women were often the cause of Ryuk’s envy. If only Ryuk could indulge in the temptations of flesh… Something occurred to Ryuk, then. “There’s no one left to enforce the rules.”

Light’s grin stretched further, knowingly, as if truly omnipotent behind the facade of a downright adorable persona. He always was the best at making masks and wearing them properly.

“Clever Little Light-o… ya sack of shit.” Ryuk could only laugh at his own obliviousness, kneeling down to Light’s level to further observe the blatant haughtiness of his expression, as if it were some assured victory; only vaguely tinged with the innocence of morally bound humanity and the untainted hopefulness only mortals had been able to experience thus far. “You’re gonna re-draft the rules before anyone even knows yer King. By the time the rest of the Realm finds out ya’ve made their King into ground beef, it’ll be too late.” Not that Shinigami were particularly revered for their sense of loyalty. Those sad sods would be more infuriated at the fact that a chance at true godhood had been swiped by some notably intelligent human trapped in the body of a newborn Shinigami.

“R-ee-uk…” Light drawled, shifting into a position that made Ryuk feel like he was being stalked by a lion. But, hyenas had always been scavengers, hadn’t they? “Rule… wif… Light. M-My…”

“Second in command?”

Light didn’t look satisfied with Ryuk’s answer, but jerked his head in a nod anyway. “Help… Light… heal world...”

Ryuk had come to a decision before the young Shinigami had even began to fully articulate himself. The thought of royalty was repulsive to Ryuk, who clung to his Shinigami ideals with firm belief that responsibility was a vile thing to have bestowed upon you; the life of a King was one of constant stress and the weight of your subjects and their needs hanging over you like an anvil, even for a noncommital species like Ryuk’s who had very few needs at all. It was far more than glory, especially ruling over an emaciated world sucked dry of all life, and the responsibilty of not just being a King but a King far better than your predecessor. Light preened under Ryuk’s scrutiny-- would Light be capable of such a feat? If there was anyone worthy of royalty, anyone with the ability to ressurect a dead world, it would surely be Light, who had astounded Ryuk without stop from the moment Ryuk descended into his life and into his neatly arranged bedroom.

There was a magnificence within Light that outshone anything else about him. His sickening sense of pride. His insatiable hunger for power. His wretched arrogance that would most certainly be his downfall without someone there to monitor it’s development as his reach expanded. It was like a gentle glow-- like the sheen of a glistening gold halo. Except his crown was made of yellowed teeth, with meat still caught in the gaps. Ryuk already knew that he would follow this creature to hell and back if Light so desired; he knew he was well and fully whipped from the moment he realized Light’s consciousness was breaking through the finely constructed iron wall meant to reduce Death Note users to a miserable smudge on existence, incapable of menial things like a determination to find deeper meaning, an ability to connect with others on a visceral level, a will to push forward even in a place like this, where the energy was sapped from one daily at the sheer lack of color to appreciate.

“Guess I got nothin’ better ta do.” Ryuk replied instead of saying all that. His thoughts tended to descend into ridiculous spirals full of metaphors and the Shinigami were not a poetic race-- so, he holed those thoughts up within and tried to dissolve them daily. “Sure, I’ll help ya try and help this lost cause of a world. I’ll be yer left hand, er, second in command or whatever.”

And you could only describe the smile that unfurled on his mouth as inherently  _ Light  _ in nature.

The name and not the literal stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> meh guess I won’t be updating every day. get wrecked losers- i have big plans for ryuk :3

**Author's Note:**

> yeah i turned light into a furry what the FUCK are you gonna do about it
> 
> side note, this is kinda a throw away fic just because i liked the idea of feral light as a nasty shinigami and didn't like the other designs i'd seen. comment or light will pee on the furniture.


End file.
